Down At The Old Corral
It seems no matter how far I may roam
Like some ol' tumbleweed my thoughts go tumblin' back home
In memory I recall those simpler times
And a way of life I never left behind.
Down at the old corral
Just sittin'
Watchin' the sun go down
Oh, How I'm wishin' that I
Could be there now
Down at the old corral.
I remember everything I ever heard
Like how to judge a man's true worth by how he keep's his word
That saddle wisdom never seemed to end
Everything I need to know I learned back then.
Down at the old corral
Just sittin'
Watchin' the sun go down
Oh, How I'm wishin' that
I could be there now
Down at the old corral.
--- Instrumental ---
Down at the old corral
Just sittin'
Watchin' the sun go down
Oh, How I'm wishin' that
I could be there now
Down at the old corral.
Down at the old corral.
Down at the old corral...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Don't corral me, and I'll always come home. Just let me go out and play during the day.
quote by Sandra Bullock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Outside Of The OK Corral
This shoot 'em up bang bang business,
Doesn't sit too well with me.
What's happening outside of the OK Corral,
Isn't my cup of tea...
Even if I drank it.
With lemon and three teaspoonsful of sugar.
A lot today has gotten out of hand.
Too many people have sat,
While ignorance took command.
And when in Rome...
You know what is said about that?
Arm yourself with a weapon!
Even if it's a baseball bat.
That might not have exactly been said,
About Rome.
But neither am I Scottish.
And I am tired of hearing bagpipes played,
At some young child's funeral...
That drank scotch and knew nothing about church.
This shoot 'em up bang bang business,
Doesn't sit too well with me.
What's happening outside of the OK Corral,
Isn't my cup of tea...
Even if I drank it.
With lemon and three teaspoonsful of sugar.
Who approved these activities in the first place?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ride em Jewboy
(kinky friedman)
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh.
Ride, ride em jewboy,
Ride em all around the old corral.
Oh, im, Im with you boy
If Ive got to ride six million miles.
Now the smokes from camps are rising
See the helpless creatures on their way.
Well, old pal, its still surprising
How far you can go before you stay.
Dont you let the morning blind ya
When on your sleeve you wore the yeller star.
Old memories still live behind ya,
Cant you see by your outfit who you are.
How long will you be driven relentless round the world,
The blood in the rhythm of the soul.
Wild ponies all your dreams were broken,
Rounded up and made to move along.
The loneliness which cant be spoken
Just swings a rope and rides inside a song.
Dead limbs play with ringless fingers
The melody which burns you deep inside.
Oh, how the song becomes the singers,
May peace be ever with you as you ride.
In the window candles glowing
Remind you that today you are a child,
The road ahead, forever rolling,
And anything worth cryin can be smiled.
So ride, ride em jewboy,
Ride em all around the old corral.
Im, Im with you boy
If Ive got to ride six million miles.
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Is Their Gift
This is their gift.
To corral them,
In urban centers.
Strip them of identity.
Have them believe and accept they are clones...
With one exception!
They are to be used to uplift the suppressor's ego!
To smother.
Even the oppressor's druthers,
Can not provide an explanation
For their own drain sustained!
Or their own degradation.
But attempts will be made,
To initiate fault and blame!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Overheard At the OK Corral
Bearer of bad news?
No!
I think...
'Couldn't Remove Rose Colored Glasses
From Those Who Still Had All Season Passes
To Disneyland'...
Is a more appropriate title for those awaiting
The sounds of the bugle boy to announce,
The arrival of the calvary coming...
To defeat 'threats' overheard at the OK Corral,
By approaching terrorists!
AFTER they have finished shopping on Rodeo Drive...
And Fifth Avenue!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Pantomime Horse
The Pantomime Horse
in the theatre corral
is proving unbroken
a wayward cheval
he's trapped them inside
at the rear and the front
they're no longer amused
by this equinine stunt
he's called for some wild-oats
and now for a mare
Oh who wrote the script
for this torrid affair
so a Rodeo-Vet was hired for the day
and thank God for the curtain
and pretend bales of hay.
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Backstage
The Pantomime Horse
in the theatre corral
is proving unbroken
a wayward cheval
he's trapped them inside
at the rear and the front
they're no longer amused
by this equinine stunt
he's called for some wild-oats
and now for a mare
Oh who wrote the script
for this torrid affair
so a Rodeo-Vet was hired for the day
and thank God for the curtain
and pretend bales of hay.
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Promıses
four white stallions galloped
across the landscape
In tow a lovely lady riding
in a make-believe carriage
The day was filled with promise
Promises for a better tomorrow.
Suddenly the horses became
annoyed
Refusing to yield to the lovely
lady holding their reins.
Her task at hand, corral their
energies
And so she did.
poem by Heather Burns
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Breaking Free....
it is not the hatchet
that breaks the walls
not the lever
that lifts the rock
barriers of
your sought freedom
do not go physical
for it is not the keys that
will open the doors
for you
to fly like a black bird
into that
blue sky
move and plunge
like a yellow submarine
into the depths of the sea
inward
the first step is deep silence
and when you
know every sand and corral
every coldness
rise up
slowly to the surface
of your being
and be not afraid of the sun
and winds
and waves and the wideness
and length of the
continents
for all these
when you are strong and firm
shall be yours
to own.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It’s the second day that I visit
It’s the second day that I visit
on the farm near Reivelo,
just past Vryburg.
They farm with cattle, goats,
a few sheep, muscovy ducks, turkeys
and chicken.
The scrambler bumps up and down
right through the field
and go past rocks and bushes,
while we drive along the rough field
and the hot wind
cut across my face
and there are places
where it cannot go.
It’s time to transform
young bulls to oxen,
to brand cattle
and to cut their horns
and I get a black stallion
to ride into the field.
My cousin rides in front
with a brown Arabian mare
and there are bushes
and flat slabs of rock
and small hillocks that we past
to try and round up young cattle
to the corral.
It’s nice to be a cattle herder
for a time
and to use legs and heels
and reigns,
to round up cattle in the field.
Every thing goes well until
I chase a young black bull
just to the entrance of the fold,
where it stops stubbornly
and doesn’t want to move
a feet further.
I jump out of the saddle,
fasten the reigns
to a small branch
and rush to the obstinate bull.
It stands and snorting
and stamp its feet
and when it sees me,
it rushes confused
at the horse.
That faithful horse stands firm
while the bulls horns swishes
onto the reigns
and the horse
stops that bull in its tracts,
that a piece of the bridle
breaks right off.
Then I am at the bull
and pull the reigns
out of its horns
and it walks meek
into the corral,
while in astonishment
I stand and look at that animal.
With a knee-strap
and pliers in the nose
we draw the bull to the ground
and when we shear it,
it moans like a heifer
and there’s a burning smell
that goes up from the branding iron
and I see the horns
dropp at my feet
and it’s another beast
when it stand on its feet.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Matchbox
(Perkins)
I said I'm sittin' here watchin'
Matchbox hole in my clothes.
I said I'm sittin' here watchin'
Matchbox hole in my clothes.
I ain't got no matches but I sure
got a long way to go.
I'm an ol' poor boy, and I'm a
long way from home.
I'm an ol' poor boy, and I'm a
long way from home.
I'll never be happy cause everything I've
ever did was wrong.
Well, If you don't want my peaches honey,
please don't shake my tree.
Well, If you don't want my peaches honey,
please don't shake my tree.
I got news for you baby, leave me here in
misery.
Well, let me be your little dog, till your
big dog comes.
Well, let me be your little dog, till your
big dog comes.
And when your big dog gets here, watch how
your puppy dog runs.
I said I'm sittin' here watchin'
Matchbox hole in my clothes.
I said I'm sittin' here watchin'
Matchbox hole in my clothes.
I ain't got no matches but I sure
got a long way to go.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Matchbox
I said i'm sittin' here watchin'
Matchbox hole in my clothes.
I said i'm sittin' here watchin'
Matchbox hole in my clothes.
I ain't got no matches but i sure
Got a long way to go.
I'm an ol' poor boy, and i'm a
Long way from home.
I'm an ol' poor boy, and i'm a
Long way from home.
I'll never be happy cause everything i've
Ever did was wrong.
Well, if you don't want my peaches honey,
Please don't shake my tree.
Well, if you don't want my peaches honey,
Please don't shake my tree.
I got news for you baby, leave me here in
Misery.
Well, let me be your little dog, till your
Big dog comes.
Well, let me be your little dog, till your
Big dog comes.
And when your big dog gets here, watch how
Your puppy dog runs.
I said i'm sittin' here watchin'
Matchbox hole in my clothes.
I said i'm sittin' here watchin'
Matchbox hole in my clothes.
I ain't got no matches but i sure
Got a long way to go.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wonder
Sitting wondering feeling that a place such as this
is only a passing river that will eventually stream to an ocean
Sighting a beautiful flower garden on the same way that an evil action is being done
Smell of moms fresh favorite meal being prepared at the same time being cluttered by the smell of man-made destruction in the air
Architectural wonder around the city skyscrapers homelessness sorrounding the same areas
Fair or unfair neither you nor I have a say just a free ride on a tube on the river flowing thru on the way to the ocean
The Wonder
poem by Alfonso Corral
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Black Magic
…a flowering of the human spirit
in which Evil torments and exploits
as much of Creation as it can reach.
…a development of Freedom To
in which Evil discards
the corner stone of Ethics
and expands
to as near Absolute Power
as it can reach.
…a flowering of Materialism,
in which Evil enclosures
its concentration camps,
its factory farms and farmers,
its vivisection laboratories and Ph.D.s.
…a convention of High Priests
and Thought Police,
Bishops and Ayatollahs;
who corral
the Living Spirit
and embed it
in dense shadowy Matter.
Until compressed by pain,
it evaporates away
to re-form eternally
somewhere else again.
poem by Brian Taylor
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Why Do You Judge Me?
Why do you tend to judge me
cause I'm of different race.
Why do you tend to hate me
cause I'm from a different place.
Why is it that you think I'm stupid
because of where I'm from.
In my own opinion,
You have classified yourself as dumb.
You act as if I'm a criminial
evil and a crook.
And all this because
your job from you I took..
All this hatred that you show
is nothing more than envy.
Why can't you just see
that you are not better nor worse than me.
I was born in this country,
I grew up just around the corner.
The difference between you and I,
is that my father crossed that border.
He has struggled in the past
to make our lives all better.
I admire him for that
why do u have to be a hater.
And even though I respect you,
You show me nothing more than racism.
When will this all stop
When will you stop your criticism?
We are no longer that minority..
Nor will we be for ever more.
We will one day rise above low standards
that's what we're fighting for.
So I suggest you learn to love my kind
and just be all that you can be.
Cause all your racism and your criticism
can no longer bother me....
poem by Arely Corral
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On the day that they nailed Him to a cross
On the day that they nailed Him to a cross
the shepherds went to the fields as they usually did,
eating that afternoon under the shadow of a tree
but when the sun suddenly
at three o’clock was setting they were dumbstruck
looking astonished at the animals
that were going back to the corral
and darkness fell across the earth
and it looked as if it was night
while nature rebelled at the death of its creator
and quickly they went home.
Graves outside the city was torn open
while the curtain at the temple ripped right through,
while people at the crucifixion
in darkness crowded together
and frightened soldiers were wondering
what was happening
when people without fear said
let His blood be on our hands,
they cast darkness over their descendants
and the whole of humanity,
over each one in every nation
and over the whole of humanity
there hanged a shadow
while He gave the last convulsions,
about the death of God
in which everyone shared
from young to the old,
even them in the highest positions.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Foreigners....
You look at me and ask yourself
Who am I?
What am I?
What have I to do?
I`m a Latina, nada mas, nothing more
Why do I have to pay for my father crossing that border,
For my father proving your race,
That he didn`t need your language,
He didn`t need your education
Nor did he need your approval
To be what he is today.
You look at my father
You think,
My America is full of these wetbacks
Who made your America
what it is now,
Full of immigrants
Full of ignorance
Full of foreigners
Who will never be white
Yet you forget that once America put up such a fight
With these non-whites,
Theses foreigners
These folks full of color,
And who do you think won?
Look around you.
What do you see,
Nothing but minorities all around
All about
Be careful for soon you will be slapped in the face when you see that you are now working for these foreigners....
poem by Arely Corral
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Cy-clops
Isolation sits
...On islands
And tiny inlets
...And bays
Its halls all closed
...Up
And surrounded by
...Water
My protection from
The Cycloptic Ogres
...That have
Almost buried me
With chains of tired
...green algae
And hardened corral
I mend my injuries
...Slowly
Seeking revenge
'Is not of my morality'
But a seeking of aid
...Is
In the distance
A life raft floats
With a line in my
...Direction
Bidding me come
...Aboard
The S.S. You Will
...Be Fine In
...No time
Commendeered
By the Skipper:
Jesus Christ.
A person of The Spirit
Reaps what he sows.
As written in Galations:
'The fruit of the Spirit
Is love, joy, peace, patience,
Kindness, goodness, faithfulness,
Gentleness and Self Control.
August 2,2009
Dedicated to: Sheltered-aka...
poem by Theodora Onken
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Ballad For A Friend
by Bob Dylan
Sad I'm sittin' on the railroad track,
Watchin' that old smokestack.
Train is a-leavin' bit it won't be back.
Years ago we hung around,
Watchin' trains roll through the town.
Now that train is a-graveyard bound.
Where we go up in that North Country,
Lakes and streams and mines so free,
I had no better friend than he.
Something happened to him that day,
I thought I heard a stranger say,
I hung my head and stole away.
A diesel truck was rollin' slow,
Pullin' down a heavy load.
It left him on a Utah road.
They carried him back to his home town,
His mother cried, his sister moaned,
Listin' to them church bells tone.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh Atlanta
(bill payne)
Well, theres a place down kentucky
Said right down near ohio
You can watch the planes at night
People line up to watch each flight
I said a-watchin them planes
Well I wish I was on one
Sittin here thinkin bout my crazy dream
If I could only see him tonight
Oh atlanta, oh atlanta
Whoah whoah atlanta
Got to get back to you
You can drop me off on peachtree
I got to feel that georgia sun
And the people in atlanta
They make you awful glad you come
I said a-watchin them planes
Well I wish I was on one
Sittin here thinkin bout my crazy dream
If I could only see him tonight
Oh atlanta, oh atlanta
Whoah whoah atlanta
Got to get back to you
Well go down, just you and me
Where the music plays all night
Theyve got the boogie band playin thats bound for hell
When they get to movin they never stop
They just keep on playin that down home beat
(keep on layin down harmony)
Yeah I wish I was on one
Sittin here thinkin bout my crazy dream
If I could only see him tonight
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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